Pulau Something is an online peer-to-peer study involving a group of twenty cultural workers from across Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Taiwan. This study has involved us experimenting with ways of cultivating cross-border solidarities over digital platforms through a series of self-organised exercises amongst ourselves.

Project Fragments

The residues and re-activations of the various projects that were developed during Pulau Something may be accessed above as “Fragments”. These project fragments include:

Annotating the Archive
by Nurul Huda Rashid

di antara lidah-lidah nusantara (in between tongues of Nusantara)
by Norah Lea

Creaturely Ideas and Ideologies
by Tan Zi Hao

Nusantara remedies during the COVID 19 pandemic: A compilation of botanical proposals
by Sheryl Cheung 張欣

Medical Records: An archipelagic archive of care
by Shawn Chua

Pulut Something: Form and meaning
by Kamiliah Bahdar and Syaheedah Iskandar

Eating-In: Food mapping exercise
by Okui Lala

phantom limb(((o))): Unpacking gestures through personal sharing
by ila and Syaheedah Iskandar

Teaching Nusantara: A curriculum-in-progress

Union Ball
by Marcus Yee

OuterIslands Online
by Johann Yamin

Relocation Map of Nusantara
by Rikey Tenn Bun-ki 鄭文琦

Hulu Hilir Map
by Nurul Huda Rashid with soft/WALL/studs and collaborators

Glossary of the Nusantara
by soft/WALL/studs with collaborators

How to use the Navi Hotkeys

Navigate across titles and content sections by clicking the Navi Hotkeys or use the A, D, ← or → on your keyboard.

How to use the Hulu Hilir Tags

Translated from Malay as “upstream downstream”, this tagging system follows a hypertextual network of keywords that link project fragments with each other.

What are Bearings and Humidity Scale

As though a weather element moving through a monsoonal landscape, your movement across the website shifts the meteorologically-inflected arrows in the background of the website. Your navigation across Fragments will also shift the Bearings and Humidity Scale.

This website is best viewed on Google Chrome.

Introduction

Pulau Something is an online peer-to-peer study involving a group of around twenty cultural workers from across Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Taiwan, organised as a collaboration between soft/WALL/studs and No Man’s Land「數位荒原」Nusantara Archive Project. Unfolding during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic from July to October 2020, the study emerged as a contingent mode of cultivating cross-border solidarities over digital platforms, involving a series of self-organised projects spanning online sharings, speculative archives, recipe swaps, sound-based workshops, and gaming livestreams.

The study seeks to re-examine the concept of ‘Nusantara’ not only as a geographical space determined by landmasses, but as an archipelagic gathering of concepts. ‘Nusantara’ is a historic regional construct that roughly translates as “other islands” from Old Javanese, and has come to mean “archipelago” in contemporary Indonesian and Malay. Its multiplicitous meanings are contested, from being synonymous with “Indonesia” to connoting the “Malay World” more broadly.

The shifting term has periodically resurfaced alongside more recent waves of discourse surrounding decolonisation and the Malay archipelago—and it is from here that Pulau Something takes its starting point in exploring how its meanings can be more porous, fluid and inclusive by unearthing shared ecology, histories, and languages. It seeks to chart the channels of cultural flows and the routes of ideas, people, and goods; mapping a new network through the acts of sharing and learning. With the region’s history of colonial division and its present contexts of intensified ethnonationalism, xenophobia, and right-wing nativism, re-examining conceptions of regional solidarities is an urgent need.

The projects that surfaced from this study thus function as a mode of bridging and embodying each other’s perspective, as a series of re-orientations alongside one another. This website is meant to both document and reactivate the fragments of these projects with a wider public. 

Simultaneously, we are aware of the colonial inheritances of archival logics and attempt to interrogate them through modes of (de-)composition and (dis-)organisation. The cascading waves, saturated air parcels, or monsoonal winds billowing across geobodies know no geopolitical boundaries, recalling the etymological –antara in ‘Nusantara’, meaning among or between. Likewise, the website’s (dis-)organisation follows a poetics of humidity, where information becomes viscous, media transpire, and tags stick, as opposed to the sterile, climate-controlled data architectures assumed as the norm.

Collaborators

Esther Lu 呂岱如
Irwan Ahmett and Tita Salina
Lo Shih Tung 羅仕東
Luca Lum
Norah Lea
Okui Lala
Rikey Tenn Bun-ki 鄭文琦
Shawn Chua
Sheryl Cheung 張欣
Siddharta Perez
Syaheedah Iskandar
Tan Zi Hao

Organising team

Div
ila
Johann Yamin
Kamiliah Bahdar
Marcus Yee
Nurul Huda Rashid

Biographies

Div (they/them)

Div is an art maker whose practice traverses and reroutes timelines and bloodlines, towards a trajectory of unapologetic queer coloured futurism. Their work centers at the dravid body and extends into photography, performance, sculpture and more. Notable projects include collaborative performance series Contemplation/Reclamation (2018-present).

Esther Lu 呂岱如 (she/her)

Esther is a curator and writer with a background in literature, art history, activist and curatorial studies. She is interested in formulating conceptual ways of seeing and discursive events crossing art and reality. Many of her projects focuses on interplays of sensibility, body, institution and memory, driven by the curiosity to explore human conditions, boundaries of knowing and how art embodies and exceeds our imagination to address various concerns toward humanity, culture and relevances of life. Esther was the director of Taipei Contemporary Art Center from 2015 to 2107, and the curator of This is not a Taiwan Pavilion — collateral event in the 55th Venice Biennale in 2013.

ila (she/her)

ila is a visual and performance artist who works with found objects, moving images and live performance. With light as her medium of choice, ila weaves imagined narratives into existing realities. Using her body as a space of tension, negotiation and confrontation, ila creates work that generates discussion about gender, history and identity in relation to pressing contemporary issues. She seeks to create alternative nodes of experience and entry points into the peripheries of the unspoken, the tacit and the silenced.
ilailaila.weebly.com

Irwan Ahmett (he/him) and Tita Salina (she/her)

Irwan Ahmett and Tita Salina are Jakarta-based artists. Their initial works focused on the issue of urban public space. As vagabond cosmopolitans they have participated in residency programs in Japan, New Zealand, Taiwan, the Netherlands, Poland and Singapore. They also participated in biennials and series of projects and exhibitions in Taiwan, Indonesia, Thailand, Australia, US, several cities in Japan and Europe. They utilize their high mobility as the primary vehicle in their art practice. Their long-term project reflects the geopolitical clashes in the Ring of Fire in the Pacific Rim and has encouraged their works to be connected with more complex issues relating to humanity, injustice and ecology. In 2019, they were funded by Arts Network Asia for the annual walking project and exhibition of “Pilgrimage to the North (Ziarah Utara)”.

Johann Yamin (he/they), soft/WALL/studs

Johann works across video, the internet, and installation; he is also involved with curatorial work, acts of support, and writing. His topics of interest include new media technology, optics, affect, cinema, video games, and media histories. He is a node within the entanglement, soft/WALL/studs. His projects and short films have been presented in Singapore and New York.
johannyamin.com

Kamiliah Bahdar (she/her), soft/WALL/studs

Kamiliah has curated numerous exhibitions and projects, including in more recent years Nyanyi Sunyi: Songs of Solitude (2018, Gillman Barracks with Syaheedah Iskandar), State of Motion: Sejarah-ku (2018, Asian Film Archive), and Merayakan Murni (“Celebrating Murni”, 2015-2016, Ketemu Projects, Bali). With her current attachment in an educational institution, and entanglement in soft/WALL/studs, she is beginning a new cycle in her curatorial practice.

Lo Shih Tung 羅仕東 (he/him)

Lo’s practice orbits around two different gravities – of his personal artistic pursuit as well as of his interest in collective practice. As a leading member of Open Contemporary Art Center, Lo has been taking a very specific role in navigating potential interactions among cross-cultural perspectives and artistic practices, investigating the force of art that is mobilized and shaped by form, space, model and relation of collaborative process. His individual practice pays attention to fragmented narration and reflection of a contextual setting or environment, operation and composition of the world. Lo has participated in the 2011 Rencontres Internationales Paris/Berlin/Madrid at Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, and also Une terrible poetique, La Biennale de Lyon.

Luca Lum (she/her), soft/WALL/studs

Luca is an artist, writer, and subcontracted research agent. Her recent interests involve intercalations of time and motifs of the delay and relay; mediated emotions and affects; gothic feminisms; non-singularity; desires with difficult or elusive objects. As a co-founder of the artist-run space soft/WALL/studs, her interests lie in layering alternative structures, networks, and atmospheres within a terrain/site, with an emphasis in expanding an alternative infrastructural base / allied coalitions. Some of her programmes at s/W/s include Xenoctober, Ex-Libris Lib-Errata, and Horizon99. Her projects have been presented at NTU CCA Singapore, Cemeti Institute of Art and Society, Yogyakarta, Indonesia (with soft/WALL/studs, 2018); Yeo Workshop, Ikkan Art Gallery, NUS Museum, Singapore (2016), and LUMA Westbau, Zurich, Switzerland (2015). Lum was Artist-in-Residence at NTU CCA Singapore from April to September 2018. She was also co-editor of the reader CONCRETE ISLAND, with Kenneth Tay. Her background is in literature.
luxerrata.cargo.site

Marcus Yee (he/him), soft/WALL/studs

Marcus is an art worker from Singapore, based in Hong Kong. His practice dwells on tangled histories across various spatial and temporal scales through matter, text, and sound. He is a satellite within the cosmology, soft/WALL/studs and presented Altars for Four Silly Planets (2017) there. He has participated in various workshops, including New Curriculum for Old Questions, Singapore (2020), Workshops for Emerging Art Professionals, Para Site, Hong Kong (2017), and Writing Lab, NUS Museum, Singapore (2013). Previous projects have been shown at ADM Gallery, Nanyang Technological University (2020), and Cemeti Institute of Art and Society, Yogyakarta, Indonesia, with soft/WALL/studs (2018), and The Substation (2016).  His writings have appeared in Arts Equator, ArtAsiaPacific, Art Basel Stories, Global Performance Studies Journal, art-agenda, among others.

Norah Lea (she/her)

Norah is a multidisciplinary artist whose works investigate the performative aspects of our identities. Her work is rooted in self-portraiture, exploring themes such as gender, sexuality and ethnicity through photography, film, performance and spoken word.

Nurul Huda Rashid (she/her), Bras Basah Open

Nurul is a researcher and visual artist who is currently pursuing her PhD in Cultural Studies in Asia. Her research interests focus on data and images, narratives, visual and sentient bodies, feminisms, and the intersections between them. Her ongoing project, Women in War, is a survey of images of women in war, critiqued through concepts of gender and violence, politics of the visual, and the role of art and the archives as methods. Nurul loves smelling old books and building on her collection of (more) books and plant babies. She hopes to adopt a cat in the future.
nurulh.weebly.com

Okui Lala (she/her)

Okui often employs an autobiographical approach in her practice, which spans photography, video, performance and public engagement. Her work explores themes of diaspora, home and belonging through the performances of domestic acts or vocational labour, such as sewing, cooking, conversing and building. Recent presentations include shows at Yamaguchi Art Centre for Arts and Media (Japan, 2019), Para Site (Hong Kong, 2018), National Art Gallery (Malaysia, 2017) and Saitama Triennale (Japan, 2016), amongst others. She was a recipient of the 2017 Japan Foundation Asia Centre Fellowship Grant for her research on migration, mobilities and identities in Myanmar and Japan. She lives and works in Penang and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
okuilala.com

Rikey Tenn Bun-ki 鄭文琦 (he/him), No Man’s Land, Nusantara Archive Project

Based in Taipei, Rikey is the founder and editor of an online art platform No Man’s Land at Digital Art Foundation, Taipei. He initiated the NML Residency & Nusantara Archive Project (since 2017) as a collaborative platform for artists concerning the shared history and its process of decolonization. He is the nominator for the Taishin Arts Award (2018~2019). His art-related writing can be found in ARTCO magazine. He was one of the speakers for “2019 Spring Dialogue” (2019/5/4~5, Spring Foundation) and Taipei Contemporary Art Center’s “Open Curatorial School” (2015, W4). He is the co-curator of Open Contemporary Art Center’s PETAMU Project (2019). He also co-curated Hari Ini Dalam Sejarah in Malaysia’s DA+C Festival (2015). He is interested in understanding how certain scenes are being invented/appropriated by those who are not formally subsumed into the institutional system, yet able to self-create and assemble themselves as “artists” in today’s art world.

Shawn Chua (he/him), soft/WALL/studs, Bras Basah Open

Shawn is a researcher and artist based in Singapore, whose work engages with embodied archives, uncanny personhoods, and the participatory frameworks of play. He has presented his research at the Asian Dramaturgs’ Network, The Substation, and Performance Studies international (PSi), and his works have been presented under Singapore International Festival of Arts, Esplanade Presents: The Studios, Amorph! Performance Art Festival, Prague Quadrennial and Panoply Performance Laboratory. He holds an MA in performance studies from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, and was awarded the National Arts Council (NAC) Scholarship in 2012. He currently teaches at LASALLE College of the Arts and served on the PSi Future Advisory Board.

Sheryl Cheung 張欣 (she/her)

Sheryl Cheung was born in Vancouver, Canada, and currently lives in Taipei, Taiwan. Primarily working between video, sound, and performance, her artistic practice is metabolic and elements respond to each other often through a process of synesthesia. Sheryl’s artistic background in abstract painting and choral music heavily influences her cognitive process. Her work has been shown internationally, including Chronus Art Center, Shanghai; Osmosis Audiovisual Festival, Taipei; Lacking Sound Festival, Taipei; JOLT Arts Festival; and Jeju National Art Museum, Korea, Her performance ‘Inland’ has been nominated for Arte Laguna Art Prize in 2013.
cargocollective.com/sherylcheung

Siddharta Perez (she/they)

Siddharta is a curator who cultivates a research direction on forms of personal agency within legacies we inherit from national history and vernacular culture. Her recent practice is enacted through her work as curator for the South and Southeast Asian Collection of the National University of Singapore Museum. Along with Lian Ladia, Siddharta founded Planting Rice in 2011 as an interdependent platform that made sense of the cross-pollination of ideas, resources and practices that happen between artistic individuals and communities.

Syaheedah Iskandar (she/her)

Syaheedah Iskandar works with vernacular ideas of visuality within Southeast Asia, drawing on contemporary discourses on hyper-visuality and its opposite, the unseen. Her projects aim to unpack knowledge(s) that inform and counter hegemonic systems of seeing. Recent curatorial projects include Between the Living and the Archive (2021), State of Motion 2021: [Alternate/Opt] Realities (2021), and An Exercise of Meaning in a Glitch Season (2020). Syaheedah was the inaugural Emerging Writers’ Fellow for the academic journal Southeast of Now: Directions in Contemporary and Modern Art in Asia and the recipient of the IMPART Awards 2020 (Singapore) in recognition of her emerging curatorial practice. She holds an MA in History of Art and Archaeology at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London. She was previously Curatorial Assistant at the NTU Centre for Contemporary Art Singapore (2014–18).

Tan Zi Hao (he/him)

Zi Hao is a multi-disciplinary artist who works predominantly in installation and performance art. His works explore the discourses of power within the postcolonial setting and probe the disjuncture in the production and contestation of history. Language, multilingualism, and linguistic ideologies are subjects that inform most of his text-based installations.
tanzihao.net

Acknowledgments

Pulau Something is produced at EYEBEAM under its 2020 Rapid Response for a Better Digital Future program, and is supported by National Arts Council and the Goethe Institut.

Web development by Steven Tjakra.

Website designed and produced by

Produced at

Supported by

Pulau Something is produced at EYEBEAM under its 2020 Rapid Response for a Better Digital Future program, and is supported by National Arts Council.

Produced at EYEBEAM

Supported by

Annotating the Archive
di antara lidah-lidah nusantara (in between tongues of Nusantara)
Creaturely Ideas and Ideologies
Nusantara remedies during the COVID-19 pandemic: A compilation of botanical proposals
Medical Records: An archipelagic archive of care
Pulut Something: Form and meaning
Eating-In: Food mapping exercise
phantom limb(((o))): Unpacking gestures through personal sharing
Teaching Nusantara: A curriculum-in-progress
Union Ball
OuterIslands Online
Relocation Map of Nusantara
Hulu Hilir Map
Glossary of the Nusantara
Annotating the Archive
di antara lidah-lidah nusantara (in between tongues of Nusantara)
Creaturely Ideas and Ideologies
Nusantara remedies during the COVID-19 pandemic: A compilation of botanical proposals
Medical Records: An archipelagic archive of care
Pulut Something: Form and meaning
Eating-In: Food mapping exercise
phantom limb(((o))): Unpacking gestures through personal sharing
Teaching Nusantara: A curriculum-in-progress
Union Ball
OuterIslands Online
Relocation Map of Nusantara
Hulu Hilir Map
Glossary of the Nusantara
1/14
Notes on Annotating

I think I was a teenager when I first met nek tok. She was a quite a figure, dressed in full kebaya and batik, her white hair pulled into a bun, seated one leg folded up on the chair, chewing betel nut that smeared red all over her lips, accentuated by her milky skin the other grand-aunts called tepung (flour). She would occasionally spit into the metal container she placed beside her and would cast a signature jeling of the eye to anyone who lingered too long in conversation with her. I learned from my mom that she is a granny from my maternal side and that she is Bugis. This was the first time I learned that Bugis was a people and that I was part Bugis, that I wasn’t just ‘Indian’ as documented on my I.C. We do not know the actual name of nek tok. I am sure someone does, but it was never recounted to my mother nor my aunts and so, she remains in image as the betel nut chewing lady, whom I would sit and observe from afar, enthralled by her mannerisms and hoping someone would linger too long in conversation so I could catch a glimpse of her jeling. The Bugis are sea folks, I’m told. I wonder if that is why I often have recurring dreams of the sea.

Does the land remember it’s an island if it has forgotten the sea? 

That soft tango between methods of classification and storytelling have always intrigued me as one cannot do without the other. In thinking about the ways we approach knowledge and information, I would often distinguish the two: the former being like air, found everywhere, eddying into breathes that utter space, stories, sayang; the latter, a documented form, a book that can be transmitted to the masses. Whilst both knowledge and information can be easily subjected to both classification and storytelling, its point of encounter resides in different domains. Pairing storytelling alongside classification ensures we do not reify categories of ‘race’, ‘other’, ‘orient’, ‘native’, ‘wild’, created to cast outliers from a perceived centre. Stories allow for ways of correcting categories, as interludes that open boundaries of the geographical, spiritual, mental. It reminds us that, like air, many flow from crevices of memory and ancestry, residing in tongues and limbs who mimic their words, but who might be met with ‘unknown’ when forced into classification. The importance of infusing storytelling into and against classification has thus become the approach undertaken in this attempt to document the nusantara, a space, stories, sayang that many feel on their skin, but have not the words to speak into form. Annotating thus became my way of breathing air alongside the fragments. 

When I first decided to play the role of the archivist to this project, I had in mind a task of weaving together pieces of information across the various fragments to create an archive that would contain all the necessary information needed to navigate our nusantara. Upon my encounter with each fragment, thoughtfully mediated by their respective interlocutors, I began to realise how counter-intuitive it was to hope for any sort of a nusantara archive for the nature of the nusantara flowed against the state and form of the archive, which works to contain and classify for some sense of preservation. As an experience that transcends geographical and historical boundaries and categories, conceptualising the nusantara as an archive would render it a complete form. Instead, like history, it cannot be so. An annotation is thus an incomplete venture. It does not want to be called an archive for it does not aim to exist as a depository of knowledge. It is never meant to offer one a full picture of anything. In fact, it employs instinct as its source of articulation alongside other stories. To a certain extent, annotation exists as a refuge for the bits of knowledge, memory, and expressions we could not or do not want to translate into information, for it remains to be understood by those who can, and witnessed by those who sense value in them.

2/14

In many places throughout the Malay-speaking “Nusantara,” the sentence “Bahasa Jiwa Bangsa” (Language is the soul of the people/nation/race) is a sentiment that is heavily echoed. Growing up, I realised that the Bahasa (language) I spoke at home does not belong to the standardised Bahasa. For example, my family says “Mika” (pronounced like mi-ke) instead of the standardised mereka (them).

Beyond specific words that found itself displaced outside of my family’s home, my family’s tongue was also peppered with sounds that didn’t necessarily make sense as words but made complete sense as verbal expressions. My grandfather would often say “Iye” (pronounced like eee-yeay!)—an elongated, exaggerated sigh—when he is annoyed or bothered. When my paternal uncles married Singaporean Malays, their partners were often shocked every time they discovered a new expression from my family’s verbal lexicon.

For the first part of this exercise, I would like for all to think of a verbal expression used in your family that may or may not be indicative to your family’s heritage. Based on what you have shared, I will be writing a script to loosely tie together the narratives accompanying these expressions. On a later date, we will read the script out together over Zoom to create an audio document for this exercise.

(See also unofficial languages, syntax, etymology, baby talk)

Architectures of Utterance
Architectures of Utterance

Step 1: Excavate
Uttering and speaking reside in different dimensions. Speaking lies in the everyday, a mediation of message, for meaning. It is listened to with the intent of decoding, understanding. An utterance is an invocation, a movement of mouth, from the mechanical into the sensuous: the expulsion of breath through lips; the lick of tongue against teeth; pursing of lips; clicking against the mouth’s ceiling of smooth skin. We excavate through a rumination of feeling and sounding, finding ways of voicing words through hearing, reading. We excavate across genealogy, locating geographies of words uttered by ancestors, embedding into today and wondering, how do we bring this into tomorrow?

Step 2: Repeat
To utter is to mimic. There is power in mimicry. Taussig in Mimesis and Alterity (1993) calls it “second nature” as he cites a study of colonial subjects mimicking and roleplaying the persona of a colonial master in their trance rituals, ending with the death of colonial master, overthrown by the powers of the shaman. Decoloniality through mimicry. It governs one’s ability to carve a path towards claiming and understanding why a thing is so, repeating through breath, into understanding. We repeat to clarify, repeat to signify, repeat to dignify.

Step 3: Spectate
We sat in our respective spaces and repeated the words in organised dis-harmony on Zoom. Monotonous iridescence of tones and pitches, wavering with uncertainty and yet, resonating through the connection of screens. Our gaze, shifting between words on a slide to the speaker’s box: How does she speak it? What form does her mouth take? We listen to each other through speakers and earphones, like ghosts in the machine, specters becoming soundwaves as we slowly familiarise with each other through sound. At times, it might have been better to not see, but to just listen. But our bodies did not bear memory of words so removed, alien to us. And so, we remain a spectator.
But a learned spectator.

Architectures of Utterance (cont'd)
Architectures of Utterance (cont'd)

Step 4: Document
The impulse to document a performance of utterance is instinctual as the spoken or uttered is fleeting. And so, we wonder: does a recording retain the aura of its utterance? Or does its reproduction through replay of bytes of sounds render it estranged to a fresh listener? In documenting sounds from a region, a people whose embodied knowledge have been slowly distilled through colonial and imperial powers that segregate, separate, delineate, classify, and misrepresent, the question of aura becomes a pretentious act of speaking through imperial and capitalist terms, where expressions and utterance become commodity for other-ness. Documentation is necessary, but it can also be dangerous power.

Step 5: Utter
Click Play – Listen – Press Pause – Utter – Repeat

3/14

11/08/2020

Hello creaturely friends, welcome to the creaturely channel! Considering the prevalence of animal imagery in Nusantara, it would be a disservice to not have a conversation about the animal.

It is useful to regard the epithet “creaturely” as an idea that occupies an interstitial (see liminality) space between the human and animal, since the animal is typically understood and evaluated in relation to the human. Consider how calling a tiger euphemistically as “grandpa” or “grandma” may save you from being its prey in the Malay and Sundanese forests; how the duck signifies a “lazy wife” while the hen is a “responsible wife” in a northeastern Thai village; how a sports centre and a giant seawall were designed to replicate the shape of Indonesia’s Garuda; or how conveniently gendered were the leonine characters of Lyo and Merly in Singapore.

Why are animals good to think with? Not only do animals represent, they perform and animate the very ideas and ideologies (see tradition as ideology) we ascribe to them. Over the next few days, I will be sharing plenty of texts and images on animal iconography, symbolism, and metaphor. Feel free to respond or share anything you find “creaturely” here too, from animals to animal-like creatures, from monsters to mythical chimeras.

This channel will culminate in a Zoom discussion happening this month. After which each will be asked to fill up a simple Google Form and think of which animals (or which animal parts) best characterise your involvement in this project thus far. Your response will be used to imagine what kind of a composite creature we are as a thinking collective.

13/08/2020

Let me begin with one of the most prominent charismatic megafaunas in the region – tiger. There exists a form of sacred tradition (see tradition as ideology) in Nusantara called the mystical knowledge of the tiger (“ilmu harimau”, “ngelmu macan”, etc.), which is inherited through generations as ancestral knowledge. It is believed that the knowledge enables one to become a weretiger, thus acquiring preternatural power and invincibility (“kekebalan” or “kedigdayaan”) that must be cautiously deployed. The spirit of the ancestral tiger could also be summoned if your fight is considered virtuous. Accounts of how spirits of ancestral tigers had assisted Indonesia’s anti-colonial resistance abound. If you have come across related accounts on tigers or other animals possessing apotropaic traits, feel free to share.

Tiger puppet. Source: Alit Djajasoebrata, Shadow Theatre in Java (1999, p. 54).

Tyger Tyger
Tyger Tyger

by William Blake

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

14/08/2020

Rikey: Hu Ye (tiger lord, 虎爺) is a very popular worship in Taiwan. We even produced the movies about Hu Ye!

Mandarin-language Wikipedia page on Hu Ye (Tiger Lord)

Mandarin-language Wikipedia page on Flag of the Democratic State of Taiwan

There is a Taoist temple in Melaka that still honours Hu Ye too. Tan Chee Beng wrote an account about it in his book “Chinese Religion in Malaysia: Temples and Communities” (2018). Hu Ye is sometimes called “虎将军” (Tiger General), whose birthday is observed annually, usually a few weeks after Chinese New Year (not too sure which exact date of the lunar calendar). Chee Beng observed that the devotees touched the mouth of a tiger statue and uttered the name, age, and address of the person to be blessed, and said “保平安,好赚吃” (bo pingan, hou tanziah) in Hokkien, meaning “bless peace and success in work”.

Another deified tiger not unlike “Hu Ye”? This is a talismanic panel of the Tiger of Ali (“macan Ali”, sometimes “harimau Allah” or “singa Ali”). The imagery originates from the “Lion of Ali”, representing Ali ibn Abi Talib, the cousin of the Prophet Muhammad. For Ali’s enviable gallantry in battle, Muhammad conferred on him the epithet “Asadullāh”, the “Lion of Allah”. But when this Islamic legend reached Southeast Asian shores, the narrative was localised, and the “lion” became a “tiger”. The calligraphic body is inscribed with the Islamic creed: “there’s no god but God, Muhammad is the messenger of God”.

Macan Ali wooden panel, Cirebon, mid 20th century. Collection of Asian Civilisations Museum.

Ali In Battle
Ali In Battle

By Rumi

Learn from Ali how to fight
without your ego participating.

God’s Lion did nothing
that didn’t originate
from his deep center.

Once in battle he got the best of a certain knight
and quickly drew his sword. The man,
helpless on the ground, spat
in Ali’s face. Ali dropped his sword,
relaxed, and helped the man to his feet.

“Why have you spared me?
How has lightning contracted back
into its cloud? Speak, my prince,
so that my soul can begin to stir
in me like an embryo.”

Ali was quiet and then finally answered,
“I am God’s Lion, not the lion of passion.
The sun is my lord. I have no longing except for the One.

When a wind of personal reaction comes,
I do not go along with it.

There are many winds full of anger,
and lust and greed. They move the rubbish
around, but the solid mountain of true nature
stays where it’s always been.

There’s nothing now
except the divine qualities.
Come through the opening into me.

Your impudence was better than any reverence,
because in this moment I am you and you are me.

I give you this opened heart as God gives gifts:
the poison of your spit has become
the honey of friendship.”

16/08/2020

I have come across an oral account in Indramayu claiming that Indonesia would not have achieved its independence without the help of ancestral white tigers. These are unseen beings (“ghaib”) so one should not expect a description of their physical appearance. They are believed to be the descendants of the revered Sundanese king Prabu Siliwangi. To him, Indonesia’s limited military stood little chance against the Dutch, but it was the sacred knowledge of the tiger (“ngelmu macan”) that had enabled the army to remain invulnerable (“kebal”) to any weaponry. Shown in this painting is a contemporary depiction of Prabu Siliwangi with a white tiger. It was painted by Ridho in 2004, who was meditating (“tafakur”) in the Sancang forest, before the spectre of the king struck him, compelling him to produce this work.

If you are interested to learn more about the notion of the unseen or “ghaib”, there’s a wonderful paper by Syaheedah Iskandar. Article on Project Muse titled “Making Space for the Ghaib (Unseen)” by Syaheedah Iskandar

Sri Baduga Maharaja Prabu Siliwangi (by Ridho), Garut, 2004, painting. Collection of Keraton Kasepuhan Cirebon.

18/08/2020

It was a hush-hush topic whenever I queried about “pamacan” (becoming tigers) and “macan daden” or “harimau jadian” (weretigers) – a ritualistic practice tied to traditional martial art forms, requiring strenuous endurance training.

Sharing a page from Peter Boomgaard’s “Frontiers of Fear” (2001). A few scholars noted that certain physical features of weretigers can be observed (absence of the medial cleft), but I doubt this is always the case.

Weretigers in Sumatra and Malaya. Source: Peter Boomgaard, Frontiers of Fear: Tigers and People in the Malay World, 1600–1950 (2001, p. 188).

Tracking the Weretiger
Tracking the Weretiger

Tracking the Weretiger: Supernatural Man-Eaters of India, China and Southeast Asia by Patrick Newman, 2013

Drawing on dramatic accounts by European colonials, and on detailed studies by folklorists and anthropologists, this work explores intriguing age-old Asian beliefs and claims that man-eating tigers and “little tigers,” or leopards alike, were in various ways supernatural. It is a serious work based on extensive research, written in a lively style. Fundamental to the book is the evocation of a long-vanished world. When a man-eater struck in colonial times, people typically said it was a demon sent by a deity, or even the deity itself in animal form, punishing transgressors and being guided by its victims’ angry spirits. Colonials typically dismissed this as superstitious nonsense but given traditional ideas about the close links between people, tigers and the spirit world, it is quite understandable. Other man-eaters were said to be shapeshifting black magicians. The result is a rich fund of tales from India and the Malay world in particular, and while some people undoubtedly believed them, others took advantage of man-eaters to persecute minorities as the supposed true culprits. The book explores the prejudices behind these witch-hunts, and also considers Asian weretiger and wereleopard lore in a wider context, finding common features with the more familiar werewolves of medieval Europe in particular.

I find it interesting how the tiger has been used as a pre-, anti-, and post-colonial symbol throughout Nusantara. It can be anything! The calligraphic tiger shared earlier is interpreted today as an emblem of the Cirebonese Islamic Sultanate before colonialism (“ambing bendera negara Cirebon sebelum jaman penjajahan”).

Macan Ali presented as the emblem of pre-colonial Cirebon. Source: P.S. Sulendraningrat, Babad Tanah Sunda, Babad Cirebon (1984, p. 108).

But in the 18th and 19th centuries when the Rampok Macan ceremony was prevalent in Java (a spectacularly gruesome event involving a tiger and buffalo fight, usually terminating with the death of the former), the tiger was a symbolic surrogate for the Dutch colonial administration. The fight was staged whenever Dutch officials visited the Sultans. The killing of the tiger by the buffalo (if not by the spears surrounding the battlefield), was a symbolic act of eradicating colonialism, which had maltreated the Javanese people as represented by the sturdy buffalo.

Lithograph of Rampok Macan, a Javanese ceremony involving a tiger-buffalo fight. Source: S. Friedmann, Die Ostasiatische Inselwelt (1886).

On Eradicating Colonialism
On Eradicating Colonialism

Wretched of the Earth, by Franz Fanon
Black Skin, White Mask, by Franz Fanon
Brown Skin, White Masks, by Hamid Dabashi
Pedagogy of the Oppressed, by Paulo Freire
Orientalism, Edward Said
On Decoloniality, by Walter Mignolo
Borderlands, La Frontera, by Gloria Anzaldua
Decolonization is not a metaphor, by Eve Tuck and Wayne Yang
A World of Many Worlds, ed. By Marisol de la Cadena
Decolonizing Methodologies, by Linda Tuhiwai Smith

Lest we forget the colonial origin of heraldry.

Malaysian Coat of Arms. Source: Akulamatiau/Dreamstime Stock Photo.

Singapore Coat of Arms, main gate of the Istana, Singapore. Source: Milnivri/Wikimedia Commons.

The postcolonial tiger as an anti-colonial inflection of a colonial lion?

Seal of the East India Company, “Southern India Including The Presidencies Of Bombay & Madras” map, 1851. Source: HUM 54 The Urban Imagination, Harvard University (Link)

21/08/2020

This project began as an examination of composite figures before I broaden my search to include imagery in general. So here’s one composite image, recast as a modern logo otherwise known as “Three Fish with One Head” (Iwak Telu Sirah Sanunggal).

Illustration of three fish with one head, Sejatining Manungso, Pondok Pesantren Tarbiyya al-Talabah, Keranji, Lamongan. Source: Mohammad Solihin (Link)

This talismanic image is really an “animal diagram” instead of a “composite creature”, because it exists only as an illustration (not a legend) expounding Sufi metaphysics. It is commonly found in suluk kept in Islamic schools in island Southeast Asia. The trifurcated fish represents a trinity: Allah (ahadiyah, dzat), Muhammad (wahdah, sifat), and Adam (wahidiyah, af’al). But it has also been understood as a symbol encapsulating the values of Islam (submission to God), Iman (faith), and Ihsan (spiritual excellence).

Dérah Wujud Tunggal, West Java, 19th century. Source: Th. Pigeaud, Literature of Java (1970, III, pl. 8).

Despite the Islamic references above, this image deserves a more polyvalent reading. Its provenance can be traced as far back to Chinese folk imagery where the motif is called “Three Fish Competing for the Moon” (三鱼争月, sānyú zhēngyuè). In Chinese, because the “fish” (鱼, yú) is a homonym of “surplus” (余, yú; or 裕, yù), the animal is particularly favoured for invoking the idea of abundance and prosperity. Reaching Nusantara, Sufism refashioned abundance into trinity.

Three Fish Fighting Over the Moon (三鱼争月), China. Source: (Link)

I find composite interesting because as an image, it plays with the relation between the one and the many, between unity and multiplicity, between identity and difference. It appears as an innocuous creature, but as an image it is built into a logic that attempts to flatten diversity. The androgynous composite deity, Ardhanarishvara, is exemplary for telescoping different cultic groups in ancient India. Authorities, divine or secular, have been obsessed with one-ness since time immemorial. Perhaps Singapore’s Merlion could also be seen as a legacy of this imagination? By combining the fish and lion, the Merlion conflates “Temasek” and “Singapura”, “fishing village” and “lion city”, past and present. Feel free to chip in if you have come across any other composite, multi-legged, or multi-headed animals.

The Merlion, Singapore Tourist Promotion Board (STPB), 1964. Source: The Straits Times.

23/08/2020

Speaking of astrology, in Southeast Asia, some animals are tied to different days of the week. This is a seven-day “rejang” compass diagram with eight animals, tied to “Isnin” (Monday), “Selasa” (Tuesday), “Khamis” (Thursday), “Jumaat” (Friday).

The diagram is used for divinatory practices to determine a person’s fortune, the appropriate dates for ceremonies or trips and more. Unfortunately I have zero knowledge on how to make an actual calculation, else we could do a collective exercise around this! The calculation technique is influenced by the Chinese animal zodiac system, but the terminologies are either Islamic or Indic.

Seven-day compass diagram of eight animals for Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Kelantan or Patani, 1838–1887. Collection of Nik Mohamed. Source: Farouk Yahya, Magic and Divination in Malay Illustrated Manuscripts (2016, p. 131).

Another example with a different configuration. Bear in mind that different regions will have their own distinct methods and animal pairings.

Compass diagram of eight animals, probably Palembang, 19th century. Collection of Balai Maklumat Kebudayaan Melayu Riau/The British Library’s Endangered Archives Programme, EAP 153. Source: Farouk Yahya, Magic and Divination in Malay Illustrated Manuscripts (2016, p. 189).

28/08/2020

Of all composite creatures in my research, this eccentric one-eyed elephant-bull composite fascinates me most. The painting is titled “Gajah dan Banteng” (Elephant and Bull), by the glass painter Kusdono from Gegesik, Cirebon.

Banteng Windu (by Kusdono), Gegesik, 2018. Source: Kusdono.

Animal Temporalities: Towards and Elephant Time
Animal Temporalities: Towards and Elephant Time

by Kat Rahmat

(Link)

Kusdono knows little of its origin. But based on his recollection of his late father’s explanation (almarhum Rastika, a very prominent glass painter in Cirebon), the eight limbs equal a Windu (the Javanese eight-year cycle). With one limb lifted, the seven limbs resting on the ground indicate the seven-day week.

The bodies in white and black represent the forces of good and evil, but their heads are conjoined with an overseeing eye, signalling the divine singularity of Allah. Those familiar with Islamic mysticism in Java may realise how elements of tasawuf (i.e.: tauhid Dzat, ittihad, etc.) are eloquently presented in this composite image.

A similar painting from his father Rastika. Collected by the late contemporary artist, Haryadi Suadi.

Take note of the “Three Fish with One Head” figure above it! The crane carrying a stick is symbolic of asceticism and the search of nothingness.

Gajah dan Banteng (by Rastika, 1942–2014), Gegesik, 1980. Collection of Haryadi Suadi. Source: Jérôme Samuel, “Naissances et renaissance de la peinture sous verre à Java” (2005, p. 122).

As with most composites in Nusantara, this elephant-bull seems to have derived from elsewhere. Very likely Indic, but localised in Cirebon (perhaps since time immemorial, but it could be a fairly recent innovation too) and additional meanings are ascribed to it. In South Asia, this elephant-bull composite is known as “usamba kuñjara”, “viraçuba kunçara”, or “vrsabha kuñjara”. Image taken from Ananda Coomaraswamy’s survey on Sinhalese art.

Elephant-bull composite (usamba kuñjara), South Asia. Source: Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, “Review: Basreliefs of Bādāmī by R.D. Banerji” (1929, p. 192).

Exploring Godly Traps on the Frontier
Exploring Godly Traps on the Frontier

excerpt from “Pawangs on the Malay Frontier: Miraculous Intermediaries of Rice, Ore, Beasts and Guns” by Terenjit Sevea

Winstedt’s 1926 pamphlet which clarified that miracle-workers were ‘not mere charlatans’, also called upon scholars to focus upon the ‘interesting subject’ of ‘Malay trapping’ that was centered upon the hunting and trapping awing who was the real expert of the forest and shikari (hunter).55 In the past two centuries, however, no single historical monograph has been produced on elephant trapping upon the Malayan frontier, and the adepts and shikaris, pawangs and bomors who possessed the ilmu gajah (esoteric science of the elephant). The only postcolonial historical work that has mentioned miracle-workers and esoteric expertise, albeit in an appendix, is B. W. Andaya’s Perak: An Abode of Grace which concedes that ‘certain people possessed the knowledge and power to trap elephants’ upon the mountainous frontiers of upper Perak and the plains of Kinta. This conspicuous academic silence on key historical agents and the expertise of elephant trapping is particularly surprising in light of European records from the late 19th century, which are referred to in Chapter 4, pertaining to, on the one hand, extensive religious hunting and breaking in of elephants in northern Malaya through the ilmu gajah. On the other hand, the indispensability of Muslim elephant trapping to the transportation of alluvial tin from stanniferous terrain and mining districts in the upstream interior of Perak to the head-waters of tributaries, and the Malay, Chinese and British penetration of the ‘never-ending’ forested frontier of northern Malaya. Chapter 4 proposes that a corpus of manuscripts and published materials that were produced in late 19th and early 20th century Perak related to the ‘esoteric science of the elephant’ are exceptional historical records of game frontiers in the Peninsula whereupon the trapping and domestication of elephants had, by the late 19th century, attained a religious meaning and was associated with Muslim bomors. (Sevea, 2013, p. 22)

02/09/2020

03/09/2020

Mo (貘), the ancient name for “Panda”, but mistaken as “Tapir” since the 19th century, was once described by Tang dynasty poet Bai Juyi (白居易) as having an “elephant trunk, rhinoceros eyes, cow tail and tiger paws” in the 9th century.

The “Panda” that became “Tapir” became “Baku”, the mythical creature in Japan that can be summoned to devour nightmares. By the 19th and 20th centuries, Baku became extremely stylised that it resembled an elephant.

Woodblock illustration of the mo (獏), Erya yintu (尔雅音图), China, 1801. Source: Donald Harper, “The Cultural History of the Giant Panda” (2012–2013, p. 210).

Baku (by Nakamura Tokisada, 1915–2001), Japan, 20th century, ivory with staining. Collection of Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

From panda diplomacy to tapir diplomacy…

Tapirs to reduce Japan ‘nightmares’, 14 October 2015. Source: The Star (Link)

Just as the battle between creaturely ideologies (see nature as ideology) (or creaturely nationalisms?) persists, so as the competition of charisma between tapir and panda. The picture shows tapir campaigners hijacking the Panda World Tour in Malaysia back in 2015 with #tapitapir (“but [what about] tapir”).

Tapi Tapir Campaign, Kuala Lumpur, 2015. Source: Poskod.my (Link)

Bear in mind that there are more than one species of tapir. But the Malayan Tapir (Tapirus indicus) is often representative of this species due to its peculiar and panda-like colour. This popularity survey results are from Reddit: (Link)

Results from the poll: “What is your favorite tapir?”, 2020. Source: Reddit (Link)

06/09/2020

Here’s the survey* results. Apparently we don’t have limbs.

“Where would you locate yourself in this composite?”, survey results in Google Form.

Based on the results, I have come up with a description for our speculative creature.

*The “Speculating a Composite” survey asks: What kind of “composite creature” are we as a thinking collective? How do we think in parts and engage with each other virtually as an organic whole? As part of this collective, what roles, components, or metaphorical organs do you play? How would you situate yourself and your participation in this collective Nusantaran body? This survey serves as a means of reflecting on our past exercises as we speculate about the ways that Nusantara can be learned, unlearned, and reconfigured in the future.

Our composite creature is colossal. With a whale body, it supports a world of its own. Extremely shy, it lives underwater and attempts to camouflage itself with its brown and spotted giraffe fur, but often to no avail. For every time it wishes to adapt to the fluctuating salinity of the ocean, it will shed its skin, temporarily revealing its bright red serpent scales, which many have mistaken as the Red Sea or the sunset.

This creature was once a triphibian, capable of roaming over terrestrial, aquatic, and celestial spaces. But due to its expansive size, swift mobility is a luxury. It used to have wings for flying, but having lived in the ocean for a prolonged period, its wings mutate into fins. It travels only by drifting along with sea currents, manoeuvring its trajectory with the fins. In the fullness of time, the creature has come to enjoy stillness, and its legs, having fallen into disuse, mutate into vestigial organs. Some of the coral reefs we witness today are part of its erstwhile legs if not its toes.

A unique characteristic of this composite creature is its diverse modes of breathing. Like a whale that has a blowhole on its head through which it breathes air, this composite creature has four blowholes. But its penchant for stillness prevents it from rising frequently above the surface of the water. Underwater, it has to rely on three pairs of gills. Make no mistake, these gills are not hidden within the gill slits like that of a fish but are located externally, like the salamander whose gills protrude from its head, exposed to the aquatic environment.

On the creature’s posterior, rows of lizard-like spines function as a supplementary protective carapace. They extend until the scalp, from which an infinite amount of gecko tails with regenerative ability branch out. Whenever a gecko tail is amputated due to harsh oceanic conditions, the tail drifts away and possesses a life of its own, independent of the composite. Over time, amputated tails accumulate and evolve into more sophisticated, composite life forms; and as they mature, these petite composites return to its ancestral composite creature, inhabiting the vestigial organs as they graze on the nutrient-rich corals, thus completing the ouroboros circle. According to a legend in Nusantara, the ebb and flow of ocean tides are largely a consequence of these life cycles taking place in the orbit of the composite creature. That is how the ocean became populated with life forms, many of which are still unknown to humans.

COMPOSITE
COMPOSITE

COMPOSE
POSE
COMPOSITION
POSITION
POSIT
SITE
SIT
IT

4/14

Nusantara remedies during COVID-19 pandemic: A compilation of botanical proposals by Sheryl Cheung is an accumulative exercise beginning in April 2020. It brings together a collection of remedies and medicinal plants from Nusantara, and gathered on Padlet with materials and documents ranging from news articles, social media posts and recipes to personal conversations and sharings from participants.

(See also new normal, mythbuster, grandma says, capitalocene)

5/14

What is made sensible in the archives of the illness?

Medical Records: An archipelagic archive of care is an exploration and re-imagination of medicine, wellbeing and care beyond the boundaries of the individual physical body, and remapping our collective relations and experiences across isolating distances.

For this task, participants are invited to contribute up to 3 artefacts. How was (your) health mediated through this artefact? What was your experience and story about this artefact? “Health” may relate to a broad range of spheres from the mental, emotional, physical, social, spiritual, economic, and ecological, to the political.

(See also expanded health, neural network, hidden, encryption)

AI-generated texts based on the submitted artefacts and written responses:

“The popular notion that ghosts are made of sugar and light themselves into spirits–even though they never actually existed to begin with. But then again, neither did time, or the witch. There’s also this belief in the power of repetition to heal, and I’ve been considering how this may relate to my mental health. I have a fairly social ph”

The power of repetition to heal
The power of repetition to heal

I wonder if this is why ghosts repeat their hauntings on the same sites: where they died; where they create spiritual-material affinities in fruits, trees, the water; in utterance. Perhaps, it is to hold hope of healing themselves back to life; repetition to heal.

“I keep a hygienic pen and paper around to document my health, illnesses, and updates on my progress on my microblog, or slough of blood, medicine in a bottle. I have a comprehensive health record to document my ailments and recoveries, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. The record leaves me open-ended about my health and well-being, and”

Body as Data
Body as Data

When we utilise apps to document our health, we are transformed into medical data that is collated to build data logic on how and why we get ill and heal. It creates a health record that is shared with many others who might not know who we are, but intimately understand our bodies, and is mostly translated through an economic vernacular aimed ats selling drugs or investing in ways of making new ones for new diseases.

“The Aquarium of the Pacific in Hoa An, Singapore’s second largest city, is filled with colourful aquarium sculptures and interactive “living exhibits” (ie, public performances) by ‘Art Biogesic’ (ie, white people art) from different cultural and racial backgrounds who submit their work to be judged by the public. I’ve had a copy of this”

They collected bodies...
They collected bodies...

They collected the bodies of ‘native’ and ‘savage’ man as living exhibits to show in museums. I find archival images of women from my seas and lands in their repository and all they could call her was unknown woman. Amok.

“\f0 , cold etc) and the shopkeeper would recommend a tea for you, and you drink the tea from a bowl on the spot. Herbal tea establishments in 60s and 70s were the predecessors of bars and cafes in Hong Kong (for local Hong Kong people, at least), and even though they’re long gone, the names of some of the teas are still famous among Hong

It’s a tiny, stainless-steel bowl for boiling water. It reminds me of the saucer you use to boil water on in the morning. The water in this everyday container, which I manage to procure in bulk, is often mouldy or contains too much water, which I have to refill, which makes me thirsty. I also often see people bathe in the river after a

I received this in the post (unearthed!), and I’ve been trying to cultivate a positive mental attitude toward the dead. And mushrooms. And ottavarias. And other psychedelics. I suppose it’s because of this that I keep buying pills at the pharmacy and taking them on the spot, rather than waiting for the pharmacy to bring me a capsule. I”

Veins like Currents
Veins like Currents

Water is a recurring entity in our accounts. We place it in vessels and maintain the same treatment for our seas, to be made into vessels, the “everyday container” placed against continents, a separation of sea and land who used to be one. A vessel to transport, without concern for its creatures and spirits within.*

*Reference:

“Ku tahu asal usul mu
Yang laut balik ke laut
Yang dara balik ke darat”: A Closing Performance by Zarina Muhammand (27 Jan 2019)

*I know your origins
Let those from the sea return to the sea
Let those from the land return to the land

The final verse from Ulek Mayang, a song traditionally performed to appease the spirits of the sea marks the key reference point and final rite for this closing performance. Alongside invited guest artists and collaborators, experience Zarina Muhammad’s artwork, Pragmatic Prayers for the Kala at the Threshold in its final moments. The closing performance is a tribute to the points of forgetting between the pre-colonial and the post-colonial and an expression of gratitude to the cosmological worlds of our making – spaces and places which we respectively belong and ultimately return to

“\f0 , cold etc), and the shopkeeper would recommend a tea for you, and you drink the tea from a bowl on the spot. Herbal tea establishments in 60s and 70s were the predecessors of bars and cafes in Hong Kong (腿池区泉体), and still play an important role (especially in the big cities) in the social and health aspects. \f1 \’92dwich\f1 \’92nd

\f0 , cold etc), and the shopkeeper would recommend a tea for you, and you drink the tea from a bowl on the spot. Herbal tea establishments in 60s and 70s were the predecessors of bars and cafes in Hong Kong (known in English as “Chinese restaurants”) and in Hong Kong in general. Today, many of them have closed down, but the Hong Kong

\f1 \’94\’4d\’9f\’86

\f0 \’af\’86\’91\’9f;s characteristics are those of a white fever\’92s epidemic, spread by the air of wind and rain, and turning into a virus that can be spread from person to person through body fluids. At least, that is the oral tradition I got from my grandmother. I also heard that the spread of white fever can

This is an x-ray of my femur bone taken at age 14. I had an extra bone growing on my femur (thigh) bone since I was a kid maybe. Growing up, my granny told me it was because I bit my nails excessively, and thus, it manifested into a bone growth. It didn’t stop me from biting my nails though, and it didn’t help that I had tonsillitis. I”

“Been paying much closer attention to the sounds in my neighbourhood since going into lockdown, and I feel like I’m living in a closed area of the city–aural trespasses being the least of my worries. I also feel that the isolation and claustrophobia that can come with being a low-level user of opiates, and the consequent feeling of being

\f1 \’94\’4d\’9f\’86;s kicking around in my head while playing Through Dark Souls 2, and while playing Bioshock Infinite, I was thinking about how the constant struggle for survival becomes an expression of individuality. This is one of the main themes of this mixtape, and in a way, it’s a repetition of sorts, as the repetition of the

\boscending\boshifting\cosphereingbspinishringinguprisingazzledowncolorsawesome

\b2dconjunction\b3dconjunction

\b3dnoveltycolorticoolcolortiflorigoColoringSquared

\boscenery\bioluminescence

\bionic

\bio

\bioGENE51

\bioGRADUATE

\bioluminescence

\bioinformatics

\bioluminescentwindow

\bioindex

\bioMUSIC

\bioPAGE27”

Codes
Codes

\powerhidden

\playantiwork

\healingassemblage

\automationcompositegamefulworldings

\nusantaraoriginothertongues

\embodiedknowledges

\pidginsyntax

\sakitsatubadan

“\f0 , cold etc), and the shopkeeper would recommend a tea for you, and you drink the tea from a bowl on the spot. Herbal tea establishments in 60s and 70s were the predecessors of bars and cafes in Hong Kong (and even in mainland China), and the trade off between hygiene and functionalism was partly to blame. \f1 \’94\’4d\’9f\’86; But
\renewcommand{\bc0}\cocoonmode1\cocoonmode0} //sick nerd dream where you have this box where you can push buttons on and off and it can hear you and make you drink from the pink glass instead of the black

one\useprognosislabel{\crhopenabk2{\color50\cyr0\f0\rgba0\fba0\f0\f0\geometry0\rgba0\f0\rgnabk0\vert\f0\f0\bf0\rgb1\sb1\colortbl;\f0\ge

time I woke up, there was a scanning jpeg of me on the Internet. The doctor said it was a virus, and said it would be best to wrap my legs tightly together, but it didn’t work and we didn’t go back to him. Over the years, my sensitivity to light, sound, temperature, and vibration have all been documented as potential triggers for dreams.”

“drug is running through my body like water. It helps to calm me down, and when the flu strikes, I can just take a extra pill of this and that. I live in a fairly old neighbourhood where the people who get sick the most are the most exposed. Almost everyone I know who is socially active has some sort of disease to hide from their friends

overgrowth of skin onto my upper arms, and onto my breasts. The skin on my upper arms are much longer and thorny, and I have to apply a lot of tension to my arms to bathe with, as the skin on my hands gets infected and becomes like a slow-growing antibiotic. I also have to take medicine every day that contains silver, which makes me feel like I’m “taiging’! That I’m “acting”, that I’m “proving” that silver won’t cure me. However, over time, the white powder in my drinking water has gotten worse, and it’s almost impossible to drink the water without getting a reaction. The water tastes like coffee, but with much weaker caffeine content. It’s not that I don’t like coffee—

when I wake up. Sometimes, I think they are dreams themselves. I believe they are my minds way of telling me that there is nothing wrong with me, that I am not the freak I seem to be. I also find it odd that the men in my life are the ones who resist having sex with me because of my “gender” (in that they do not want to do “gender””

“with a local, we were diagnosed with eczema and told to apply ampoules and gargles to stop it spreading. The ailment, at least, is rather than itself a pleasurable sensory experience. The scrape of a fingernail on a glass door leading to the common bathroom is like having your leg spread for you, and possibly leading to a repeat

been subjected to repeated trauma. Throughout my recovery, I found it helpful to imagine that the form of treatment that I was attempting to heal from was actually a psychogenic illness. This allowed me to discuss the topic of self-image and body image for even more negative consequences. \ref {emergenciespracticebase} \ref {excerptsfrom”

6/14

Pulut hitam, pulut kuning, and all other forms that rice takes—this exercise looks at the commonalities in rice dishes, and the stories evoked (see sacred foods, sustenance, traditions). Kamiliah and Syaheedah reflect on glutinous rice and their relationship to the ingredients through a letter to each other.

(See also rituals, terrains, moyang, maternal)

Something
Something

The use of something has become an important representation of what it means to be a person of diaspora or a third-generation child of an ethnicity one somehow becomes estranged from. The language is slowly eroded from tongue, but the tongue can recognise its taste. It tastes like something, terpikat, melekat. Stuck, like a ringing of a melody whose tune we hum, but words we cannot decipher. Something.

Syaheedah’s letter to Kamiliah

Kamiliah’s letter to Syaheedah

Transcript of Kamiliah’s handwritten letter

Dearest Syaheedah,

It’s been a while since I’ve handwritten a letter—I couldn’t quite bring myself to type a letter though. I hope you, your mom, and the cats are well! Have you and your mom been making bubur pulut hitam many times since? Thank you for sharing your mom’s recipe with me. I was very taken with the amount of details and also the care taken with the ingredients—I also really liked comparing the differences in recipes. I feel my mom would have certainly skipped a few steps—she likes simplicity and efficiency.

You asked “So why pulut?” Terlekat (to stick) and terpikat (lured) are very apt verbs for this collection of personal experiences and narratives from different points in my life that have just stuck to me, and hovering quietly on the backburner, waiting to coalesce into a project. To borrow the analogy you used, ideas take time to ripen.

I can’t account for why the memories of these experiences and encounters with narratives have stayed with me, and even more unexplainable, how these disparate memories called out to each other through the years. The first memory, must have been when I was 9 years old. It’s all very hazy now—it was a school trip to a museum, maybe the Malay Heritage Centre, I can’t be sure. There was a tour guide… actually I think it was either the National Museum or the Asian Civilisation—it was about the history of Singapore, and the tour guide was retelling the legend of Sang Nila Utama, beginning with his father’s descent from the skies in some region in Palembang. Maybe I wasn’t 9… the more I try to recall the details, the more elusive it becomes. But this specific moment is always in sharp focus for me—when Sang Sapurba and his brothers appeared on the mountain, everything around them turned to gold. The version of the Malay Annals translated by Leyden made it clear that rice was cultivated on this mountain—by two women, Wan Ampu and Wan Malin—and that “they had large and productive rice-grounds.” In the wake of this divine phenomenon, “they beheld their rice-fields gleaming and glittering like fire.” From these same fields, they cut the paddy for food for the brothers.

Growing up in Singapore, I had no reference, visual and otherwise, for a golden rice field. I was very captured—or rather, lured—by this image of gleaming and glittering golden land, but it escaped me. Why did they descend on a mountain? Why did the field turn to gold? Why was rice such a prominent element in this story? My understanding was limited to my relationship with my environment—the gleaming I knew was of street lights and cars, the sunlight reflected off the glass skyscrapers. Rice came pre-packaged at the supermarket—so many times removed from the process of growing, harvesting and threshing (the glutinous rice for the pulut kuning we cooked came from Thailand). Rice has become such a banal affair—another product on the shelf. Do you think the rice are grieving at this lost of spiritual connection?

My second memory took place in East Sumatra almost a decade ago. My parents and I were in Medan for the first time, tracing my grandfather’s family. News of the return of a once lost family reached two elderly sisters in Binjai, where my grandfather came from. They invited us to their house—built in wood in the somewhat traditional style. Our “return” must have meant a great deal, because when we arrived, they sheltered us under one of those royal-style yellow payung from the car to the house. Inside, they had prepared pulut kuning, individually hand-shaped into oblongs and each resting on a banana leaf. In an intimate gesture, the sisters scooped a small piece and hand-fed us the first bite—separated bodies reunited through rice, the substance of kinship. At the time of course the gesture was bewildering and uncomfortable.

It’s this third experience that brought new found understanding—four years ago I was in Padang, riding around on the back of a motorcycle into the highlands. The landscape was dominated by three mountains that were in constant view—if I’m getting this right, it was Gunung Tandikat, Gunung Singgalang and Gunung Marapi. We’d ride for hours, and still they were there, like sentries guarding over the land. Eventually, we were released from the winding roads and emerged on a broad flat… I want to say plateau, and the road just kept running straight through the centre of it. If we kept going, I think we might have found ourselves in Pekanbaru. The sentries were no longer in sight, and those wispy clouds you seem to get in high elevation disappeared, letting the late afternoon light fall on everything. The grey gave way to gold, as far as I could see. With sunlight in my eyes and hitting the rice-grains, it did almost look like it was glittering.

I know I had seen rice fields before this. Perhaps it was something to do with Sumatra. These memories have now become so entangled with each other. That day in West Sumatra felt as though I was witnessing the very scene Wan Ampu and Wan Malin had witnessed. But somehow also the two sisters in Binjai were re-enacting the scene where Wan Malin and Wan Ampu prepared food of gold rice for Sang Sapurba and his brothers. Their gesture has also taken on new meanings—so laden with symbolisms—… I haven’t found the language to express this. I get a sense that I found something sacred—a substance I cannot find here, and I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able to return to it.

The pulut kuning was surprisingly easy to make—or perhaps it’s my mom’s love of efficiency and simplicity. Although I realised she was quite unreliable when it came to verbalising instructions—the only reliable way to learn was to watch, then attempt to do it while she watched over me. There were also no standard measurements—only experience and instinct. Writing the recipe suddenly felt like trying to write a manual on how to ride a bicycle. The yellow of the pulut kuning depended on balancing the amount of tumeric—but how to make it glitter and gleam?

<3 kamil

1 Dec 2020

My letter to you
My letter to you

Dear Syaheedah and Kamiliah,

I hope you won’t find my letter an intrusion into your beautiful conversation. I felt that your exchange required more than annotations, for doing so, would mirror the hand of History, whose occupation is to contextualise, frame, and document. Instead, I offer snippets of stories, like a conversation or a trail into the thoughts of an observer/interrupter who would chime in with wide-eyed recognition of your tales.

I love pulut kuning too! Though thinking about it now, I seem to mostly remember it in relation to weddings or when found in small hawker stalls that would wrap it with serondeng and pop it goes into plastic bags that makes eating it feel somehow detached. I too recall seeing an image of the pulut kuning in some museum, categorised as ‘Malay food’, and wondered if it should have been yellower than presented. I too found it funny that you could not remember which museum it was that housed the history or encounter of the narratives. It’s not funny because you couldn’t remember the where, but funny that all our museums claim to offer almost similar narratives or have all curated semblances of the same stories, each mimicking the other. It’s almost as if the museum differentiates itself as an institution only through its name and aesthetics of redesigning whichever colonial building it took over. I also smiled, alright, perhaps smirked at your mention of the Malay Annals. Once again, not at the document itself, but by the constant reference institutions make to it as means of appeasing or reminding the orang Melayu that ‘hey, we have read this one account of yours!’. Funny. Sometimes, humour becomes a form of care when looking back into histories, because it is better than anger, or sadness.

You asked the question: do you think the rice are grieving at this loss of spiritual connection? This made me tear a little. See, funny distracts from heavier emotions like these. I too recall my mak always telling me as a child to not waste even a single rice, or they would cry. I wondered how rice could cry, but now I guess it’s the connection to its mountain, water-soaked padi fields, and land that cries at each waste, at our inability to recognise nor remember where our rice comes from because we no longer have a relationship with that environment. But I shan’t romanticise this into a call for the older days for we cannot escape the changing landscapes we inhabit. We can however, mourn our inability to recall or remember these knowledges, now, only accessible within museums walls and History that offers us the information, but not the stories.

I also realise how my mak is unrealiable when it came to expressing instructions. When I would ask her how she was able to just do without understanding the how, she said she used to watch my nani (grandma) cook and just mimicked how she would fold, measure, and make. My nani was a great cook, and used to cook for us all her special dishes. Pulut kuning was also a speciality of hers because she would make it for weddings, when it was given out as berkat (gifts) to those in attendance. My mom never makes pulut kuning, she doesn’t know how. But when she does cook any of the dishes from my nani’s ‘recipe’, it always tastes the same. The body recognises faster than the mind is able to remember. Nani’s ‘recipe’ was not some handwritten list of ingredients. Instead, it used to be repeated phone-calls between my mak and nani, checking how much of this and that to add. I’d watch my mak on the phone, gesturing with her fingers, measurements recited to her over the phone. Sikit aje, suka hati lah, nak pedas ke tidak. Since my nani’s passing, my mak would phone my aunt, her eldest sister, who used to live with my nani. The conversations are the same, wild gesturing with loud voices combatting confirmations. Somehow, nobody bothered to write anything down. Perhaps, we do remember better through making, through some faith that the memory has terpikat onto selves, that our bodies remember, both action and taste.

But then, you ask – how to make it glitter and gleam? 

I too don’t know.
Now see, there’s that sadness again.

With quiet love,
N

7/14

This exercise is to map down our eating-in experience during the Covid-19 lockdown in different cities. The idea for this emerged from playing farming simulation game Harvest Farm, as well as the shifts in consumer habits during quarantine-time, whether in increased consumption of food from local farms and businesses as a form of support, or to the heavy reliance on delivered goods.

Through a survey, participants shared about a dish they had during the lockdown or Movement Restriction Order in 2020. They listed down the ingredients, where they got the ingredients (neighbourhood mart, own garden etc.) and the food sources of the ingredients which required a bit of detective work (see origin, location).

A collective map is then generated from the data provided, pinpointing the geographic sources of ingredients from the dishes shared, and charts the narratives and geocultural entanglements associated with the selected dishes and food items.

(See also memories, fried, eggs, market)

Overall map from the entries of dishes:

You can also get a detail view of the map at this link !

Once you are in the website, you can navigate around by the hand tool and zoom function.

You may also view the data behind the map by clicking the spreadsheet via the top left column of the map.

# Dish 1: Stir-Fried Bayam

“I tried to make at least a green dish everyday. Well…that’s because nothing will go wrong with stir-fried vegetables (for me).The vege was delivered from Cameron Highland every Wednesday!” — Okui, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Note on #Dish 1:

For this dish, I was glad that I’m able to support local farms as their businesses were affected by the movement control order in Malaysia. However, when I was doing the mapping, I was surprised to find out that the onions and garlic which we used in almost every dish were mainly imported from India and China.

# Dish 2: Stir-fried rice cakes

“Balanced diet amidst the pandemic! It’s a dish that can accommodate any vegetables.” – Zi Hao, Singapore

# Dish 3: 韭菜花蛋炒飯 (Fried Rice with eggs and chive flowers)

“My father‘s funeral was on the 22July. We haven’t experienced real lock down in Taiwan. But since my father was sick for months before his death, it felt to me like something similar to those who felt during the lock down…. After he passed away, we prepared lots of meat for the ceremonies in the 2 weeks (頭七、三七、五七、七七). Together, we (my mother, my sisters, two nephews and their father) had the fried rice made by my mother on the night before his funeral. We ate very simple and everything seemed (back to) normal again.” — Rainfrog, HsinChu, Taiwan

Chive flowers from our family garden

# Dish 4: Sourdough Banana Bread

“Experimenting with sourdough” — Goldfish, Penang, Malaysia

# Dish 5: Thai Beef Salad

“My first foray in listening to Marion (from Marion’s kitchen) who’s a Thai-Australian chef” — Sidd, Singapore

# Dish 6: Rasam

“It’s a comfort food but also one that I have when I feel like my immunity is low; it makes me feel fortified again.” — Nurul H, Singapore

# Dish 7 :Chicken feet with vinegar

“I bought the wrong thing, supposed to be chicken leg.” — Ley Lynn, Penang, Malaysia

# Dish 8: Pumpkin Soup with bread

“I blend the pumpkin and mix with milk and butter. It’s healthy and nice to dip the bread with it! The bread is also fresh because it’s from a bakery nearby. I think they made the bread themselves” — Sew Eng, Penang, Malaysia

# Dish 9: Romanian Mama Beef Stew

“Shared memories with my flatmate Silvia , a Romanian old lady who just moved to London and worked in a British chain restaurant that served Asian food . When the locked down was imposed and without knowing when it will reopen, the restaurant have to give away all their ingredients for the staff to avoid further waste . Silvia brought lots of restaurant prep food and ingredients home to share with all the flatmates . From here , we knew Silvia better , communicate with very basic English , Google Translate , food and smile.” — Yuki, London, UK.

# Dish 10: Dahi Baigan (Fried Aubergine with Yogurt)

“Childhood food from Odisha, India” — Vava, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Photo credit: rudrangshu mallick

8/14

AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL

Using the ideas of a safety instruction manual that is typically available on flights, the following instruction manual was our way of unpacking and bringing consciousness towards embodied knowledge through gestures. Based on the materials that we have collected, we used gestures that were shared with us in our surveys.

Apart from highlighting the distinctive and personalised nature of these gestures, the instructions attempt to systemise the “absurdity” of these gestures which may be irrational to most, is rational to the user.

(See also instinct, oral tradition, transmissions, healing)

Disparities in Documenting Gestures
Disparities in Documenting Gestures

Witnessing through seeing and documenting through text assumes that all human articulation can be subjected to visual and textual forms, easily catalogued for posterity. What happens when a gesture and its inscribed meaning is estranged from our understanding? Kenapa buat macam gini eh? Why do we do it this way? We don’t know. What elements of our surrounding have changed in order for certain gestures to be dislocated from peripheries of self-hood and practice; dislodged from the objects (plants, herbs) and cosmologies that shape its meaning, the familial? How does one document these shifts and murmurs?

A Guide to Messy Scribblings of non-textual Gestures 

Some things aren’t intended for an outsider-understanding. We merely witness and find resonance with our own experiences and epistemes. We voice, mimic, mirror, and scribble to gain a semblance of an understanding, because we acknowledge otherness by assembling resemblances to our own metaphors, our own texts.

Air Luir, Air Liar: all water is in the wild
Air Luir, Air Liar: all water is in the wild

Nadia Seremetakis* speaks about the cultural significance of saliva. She describes an account of her grandmother, chewing food in her mouth to soften it before feeding it to the baby. The transference of saliva from one person to another was a mark and measure of familial ties. Here, we inscribe it with healing properties. Or rather, we are made to recognise its power; that our bodies only respond to entities of its own bodily source, as cure, as protection against outer elements. Saliva is air luir in Malay. The use of air, ayer (water) as a descriptor of this part of our body, akin to the air laut (sea water); water bodies that are also now estranged from their original shorelines. We have reduced all air to functional entities: saliva for digestion, seas for transporting ships with commodities. They are emptied of their ancestral gestures, moyangs that move with water. How was it invested with such energies; by whom? Grandmothers seem to be vessels of such knowledge. Nenek aku, nenek kau. Familial.

Might our saliva have forgotten its energetic and healing powers with the emergence of pills? It is interesting how the encounter between a pill and saliva is never intended; dissolved into a taste of the bitterness. Instead, we are to immediately swallow it whole, the bitter pill.

*“The Memory of the Senses: Historical perception, commensal exchange and modernity” by Nadia Seremetakis (Visual Anthropology Review 9 (2), 2-18). Download full paper here.

A Glossary for an incomplete archive* of the phantom limb 
A Glossary for an incomplete archive* of the phantom limb 

Approaches Actions
gesture as desire lick thumb and put on belly button
sentient as language jilat jari
healing embodied knowledge press nail onto mosquito bite
sympathetic magic make ‘click’ sound with nails
pantang areas of the body with intention, speak bismillah
ethos of transmitting forbidden gestures swipe and activate
directing energies animal nicknames to protect against spirits
nameless/textless/image-less salt on shoulder
kitchen pantang jeling
teaching as unconscious control tahi
siblings’ code cortices tapping

*an archive should aim to be incomplete and resist its full translation in order to remain protected from the framing of any particular history, especially those who possess and assert imperial positionalities. in light of these exercises that float their way in and out of memory, perhaps, ahistoricity is needed in the act of archiving. to modulate documentation through body and senses, arbitrary articulation, so that we may triangulate and assemble across and beyond geographies and history.  

9/14

Sketching out a speculative curriculum on the historical and cultural conjectures of Nusantara, Teaching Nusantara: A curriculum-in-progress encompasses a series of discussion sessions generating imagined assignments and syllabi as an entry point into Southeast Asia, its proximate regions, and their further diffractions and manifestations in culture and popular branding. A potential tangent includes a study of the various readings of Southeast Asia and/or Nusantara, as taught from each country’s contexts and curricula.

Session 1: Dating Nusantara

✤ Precolonial dating and alliances—from Majapahit to the Malay Archipelago
✤ The flavour of timelines and calendrical systems
✤ Colonial to Cold War occasions—independent states and alignments

Session 2: Losing and finding Nusantara

✤ To be called by many names—calling ourselves, being called by others, re-identifying ourselves today
✤ Governing institutions and assimilation—religious/political institutions, and outlying practices
✤ Colloquial and vernacular “virtues”/”values”

Session 3: Closure

✤ Questions for each other
✤ Invocation or prayer or slogans

(See also time, routes, roots

10/14

The archipelagic is a union deferred, surfacing, spumes of history beached ashore. Fading between grains, only to be overlaid again.

Each gathering is kink: Nusantara, galactic polities, mandala kingdoms, low pressure zones, the Association of Southeast Asia, Pan-Asian Union, thalassocracies, the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, Indochina, Maphilindo, the Cairo Conference, Darul Islam Nusantara, SEATO, the Belgrade Conference, Nanyang, SIJORI, ARF, APT, the Bandung Conference, the Intertropical Convergence Belt, the Pacific Ring of Fire, APEC, ASC, NAASP.

Gathering and separation are folded into one another. Incursions into solidarity, solidarities out of weakness (see cross-border solidarity). Each gathering carrying with it an abortive nucleus. On the summit, an unscalable dance of diplomacy, skirting around impenetrable rites of informality and nonconfrontation. Dancing as flood-waters creep up along the foothill.

A region is an Android app, a clapback, Taylor Swift stans, banana chips, a callboy ad, coffee beans, proselytization, temple archeology, a visual novel, a sporting event mascot, digitized open-access ancient manuscripts, a women’s cycling community (see procrastination, bots).

This is a weak attempt to think of unions of difference, the very work of unions becoming not-work (see anti-work). Along these swells of data, every gathering is synoptic, an instance of intersection (see ethos, unions as process). A gyre around procrastination and bombast.

11/14

Beginning with Hans-Dieter Evers’ observation about the evolution of the word ‘Nusantara’ into a “virtual Asian fantasy land” for online users, this digital tour and gaming livestream examines the sprouting up of digital folklore circulating the concept of ‘Nusantara’. Such digital manifestations often delineate alternate histories and re-imaginings/dissolutions of geopolitical boundaries, while at times maintaining troubling ties to ethnonationalist thought.

Traversing the Singapore and Malaysia-themed maps in the Southeast Asian server of online game, MapleStory (MapleSEA), the project examines the gameful worldlings for these geographies, alongside the various viscous bodies (see slime, orang minyak) inhabiting these sites of play.

(See also lag, ping, queer gaming)

Creatures of Pulau Belakang Mati
Creatures of Pulau Belakang Mati


Image of creatures at 432pm, October 2020

Fieldnotes
I stand at the banks of the Labrador Nature Reserve and see Pulau Blakang Mati, otherwise known as Sentosa. It felt ominous seeing the island from behind as, like its name, blakang, back, is followed by mati, die, death. And yet, the spectre never dies. 

Looking out into the Straits of Singapore, both these tips make the mouth of the sea, guarded by forts, before spilling out into the nusantara they have become detached from. In this crater of the mouth, creatures linger. Expelled from the etymology of ‘Pulau Blakang Mati’, and as ‘Sentosa’ makes no sense, they now linger as bots, fragments imprinted through digital folklore

Video of Twitch Stream

In-game map of Singapore & Malaysia in MapleStory (Southeast Asia server)

On the plane to Singapore

Departure point at the Tree Platform

On board Singapore Airlines

Arrival at Changi Airport

Central Way, or: Central Business District

Encountering Raffles

Law enforcement at the Esplanade

Black slime

Right-click Synonyms
Right-click Synonyms

Word association: no-sky-skyscrapers, Crazy Rich Asians, HDB-society, concrete-cement, infrastructural-decoration, infrastructure-anxiety, unreal objects, spectacle, luxury ladder, lego, limits, green-décor, Garden City, Merlion’s mouth, cockroach.

Ulu City, or: Neo Tiew Estate

Arrival of the Physarocene

Attack of the Duku trees

Path to Krexel, the giant duku tree boss

Boat Quay, or: Clarke Quay

Quiet quay

Playing with Merlion

Mysterious pathways

Squid ink skies

Ghost Ship

Glitches and ghosts at MP3

Odd interiors, slimy sailors

Weighted matter

Bossfight: Captain Latanica

A portal to Trend Zone Metropolis, or: Kuala Lumpur

Conjoined geographies, collapsed temporalities, alternate political histories

Arrival in Trend Zone Metropolis

Old KL Railway Station and the Petronas Twin Towers

Kampung Village, or: Kampung Baru

Emo Slimes

Village chief

Questlines at the kampung

Fantasy Theme Park, or: Genting

Controversial cravings

Carousels and mascots

Beyond repair

Fighting mascot boss, Targa

Spoils of battle

Wearing enemy’s skin

Bestiary of Critters Encountered

 

Batoo

Berserkie

Biner

Captain Latanica

Duku

Emo Slime

Targa

Stopnow

Scarlion

Fieldnotes
Fieldnotes

Emo slime persistently traverses sea and shore as nature intended, before the water was sanitised for the allure of a Singapore River. It makes Emo slime emotional for all of its slime buddies have been eradicated. It stays to remind us of the smell of the Straits.

 

Targa remains the obscure imported simulacra that stands watch over that is unfamiliar, for the cuteness of bears was manufactured as commodity, and never meant to be placed amidst jungles.

 

Captain Latanica guards ships beyond the mouth. It ensures the economic prosperity of these shiny islands and keeps the other creatures in check: to ensure they stay so that we can be reminded of our ‘traditional’ and yet, disregard it for the spoils that Captain Latanica brings.

 

Duku is an ancestral tree of islands. Its roots grow deep and high, its crown lush and green. Many Dukus have been cut down, to make way for Targa.

 

Batoo is the surveyor, flying across the nusantara, crystalised by the glitter of the sea. It visits Duku with each modulation, to remind Duku that to be a tree is to house other creatures within.

 

Scarlion lays in the waters, no longer awaiting discovery: for there never was one.

 

Stopnow is a cautionary reminder.

12/14

YOUR RELOCATION MAP OF NUSANTARA IN FUTURE TENSE

Background: About Nusantara Archive

We want to build up a future archive of the region by considering different currencies, measures of locality, and forms of art practices in the name of ‘Nusantara’. The ‘Nusantara Archive’ initiated in 2017 by No Man’ Land from Taipei is an umbrella project including artist residency, translation, publication, and collective production, which involves Malaysian, Taiwanese, and Indonesian artists and writers with dozens of volumes of pamphlets with articles in both English and Chinese. The year 2019 marks the turn of Nusantara Archive from the ‘pre-nationalist or the spiritual mapping of the region’ (gradually) to the ‘shared history and process of decolonization’ among Nusantara countries. Here you can download the pdf files of the latest publications from our website:

vol 10th: Chang En-Man – Snail Paradise (張恩滿蝸牛樂園;in conjunction with SB2019)
vol 9th: A Box Photographer (人像攝影師)
vol 8th: Paririmbon Investasi (超自然投資手冊)
vol 7th: The Broadcaster(s) (播音員)
vol 6th: Show Ying Xin (蘇穎欣)

Yet we haven’t had enough understanding of the territory that we used to call maritime Southeast Asia. What kind of boundary will we experience, and what kind of future shall we expect? And what are the issues we bring in this workshop cooperation?

(See also horoscope, cartography, symbolic attitude, spacetime continuum)

A Proposed Methodology
A Proposed Methodology

These annotations will serve as an attempt at identifying the framework, approaches, and pedagogical prompts/questions/speculations of the project. In doing so, it is the hope that The Relocation Map of Nusantara in Future Sense can act as a suggestion on ways of finding oneself within one’s own ideological, experiential, understanding of nusantara, in order to articulate new formations for our futures.

The Relocation Map of Nusantara in Future Tense

Hello my friends, welcome to “Your Relocation Map of Nusantara in Future Tense”, which is also the title of our channel in Discord. I spent a little time learning how to use Discord integrating with other online tools. By using these tools as my database of the background information and the platform to demonstrate the process of making the chart and astro map, (here we introduce the technique of the Astro*Carto*Graphy Map invented by Jim Lewis in 1997,) I want to talk about the implication of this relocation idea of my interest. I hope it is not too dry.

My proposition is to create the Relocation (Astro) Map for anyone in our group who is interested in associating themselves to a certain time-space coordinate of Nusantara. For example, I tried to create a map for our unfulfilled workshop on 20 March (later postponed to 12 April) and saw if I could explain it. Then I realized that it’s too many factors involved. But we just start the discussion by asking some questions little by little. So I started the channel three weeks ago before our online workshop. It is about writing up, archiving, and, to a little extent, working on a certain chart or map. My presentation loosely contains the three questions that I asked in my channel, and continues it with the fourth question. Anyhow, I think you can go back to our channel in Discord, after this workshop, and see if you want to develop a more specific astro map with me then.

Feeling
Feeling

Possible prompts/questions/speculations *these are inexhaustive and can be added, removed, questioned, revised

– What is your definition of nusantara, and where are you located in this terminology?

– Does this definition (as terminology) remain as imaginary or can it be tethered to the real (geographical, material)?
*do note that the distinction between imaginary and real does not denote any hierarchical segmentation

– How does nusantara feel to you? Is it a place, a whisper, a story, a sensation, etc.?

– Where are you located (geographically, spiritually, economically, etc.) and how does it shape your identit(ies)?

– What are the characteristics of your localit(ies): nationality, ethnicity, geography, etc.?

– What does it mean to relocate; what and where are you relocating from and to? Why is this necessary?

– Are there threads of self-hood in your identity that is not factored into your location, and how can they become access points into rethinking your relocation?

Keywords: archives, currencies, locality

Q1: Can you Locate the Southern Cross in the Sky of Singapore?

– I want to explain why I design the questions instead of giving you answers. The first one is about the Southern Cross. It is inspired by my childhood memory of a Japanese anime (The Super Dimension Cavalry Southern Cross) song 30 years ago. Only very late (after 30 years) have I found that the image of this constellation represented in the song was actually a popular theme of many military songs(軍歌) during the 1940s. The question is, when Japanese Imperial Army used this constellation to call for identification of different Southern countries, Singapore is not really located in the South hemisphere. It is right at the equator. “The south” is a relative concept. It involves to the transferring process from the physical location to the abstract space of the constellation.

Recently some memory crossed my mind. I remembered a Japanese anime that I had always watched in my 5th grade, when I was old enough to remember its title but too young to feel its implication. It is called The Super Dimension Cavalry Southern Cross (超時空騎団サザンクロス) and it is a sci-fi anime released in 1984, a sequel of The Super Dimension Fortress Macross. In Taiwan, its title was literally adapted to the 宇宙再生人(namely, Reincarnated Spaceman) in Mandarin. However, the lyric of its Taiwanese theme still preserved the most important element in its original name, the “Southern Cross”, or Crux. 

Why does a Japanese cartoon has a name of this celestial body, if people can only see it in the Southern Hemisphere? As long as I realized this, I was quickly immersed in the archive of the Southern Cross, and the tie between this celestial body and those who look up for it.

As we know, the Polaris and the Southern Cross are used to point out the North and South directions. (The north and south celestial poles are the two imaginary points in the sky where the Earth’s axis of rotation intersects the celestial sphere.) The north celestial pole is almost at the bright Polaris (in one degree), or the “North Star”, useful for navigation in the Northern Hemisphere. The south celestial pole is visible only from the countries in the Southern Hemisphere. Similar to the status of the Polaris, the south celestial pole can be located by the Crux. But here are some other ways to find the south pole, since the Crux is not an arbitrary pointer.

The “Southern Cross” became catchy in Taiwan during the WW2, when the Imperial Japanese soldiers are taught to recognize it. It is said that the Taiwanese indigenous soldiers shared the memory of singing military songs together “under the Southern sky of the Southern Cross”, when they missed their villages in Taiwan. These soldiers are recruited by the Japanese due to their valiant forces. When they were repatriated back to Taiwan after the Japanese had fallen, they were still caught up in the nostalgia under the sky of “the Southern Cross”, the the nostalgia of an impossible return to their unravaged tribes. This memory is mediated by the songs after the war was over, and the soldiers were demised. In a Japanese Gunka (military song) published in 1940 in the Colonial Taiwan, “The Song of Taiwan Gun (台灣軍之歌),” we read its name in the first sentence, “Far from the Pacific Ocean, (it’s) the shining Southern Cross”(太平洋の空遠く,輝やく南十字星). Not only Taiwan but Singapore is mentioned in the Japanese Gunka.

In the “First letter of Syonanto (昭南島的第一封信),“ Syonanto, translated as “Island of the Light of South”, was the ideal name given to Colonial Singapore during the Japanese Occupation from 1942 to 1945. On February 15th, 1942, the Japanese accepted the surrender from Lt. Gen. Arthur Ernest Percival. Here we can see the ideal agent of “the South” (to the Japan Empire) has been transferred from Taiwan to Singapore, where a better future (to the Japanese or to the Singaporen?) is promised by the naming of “Syonanto”..Here comes my question of this section. As we know that the city state of Singapore is located at the Southernmost tip of Malay Peninsula, it is actually dozens of miles North of the Equator. How can we describe it as the “Light of South”? Obviously it’s from the point of view of Japanese, since both Taiwan and Singapore are the Southern islands on the Pacific ocean, with the latter further in the South. As we read in the poem “Syonanto” written by the Katsumi Tanaka(田中克己) in 1944,

I see the lines of imperial flags on the southern isle and think, oh how dazzling the Emperor’s reign!I see the exotic stars of the Southern Cross in my window at dawn, but the rooster’s call sounds just the same I see the strange sight of a soldier with a gibbon for a pet; yet in time regard it quite without suspicion.

I can’t help but ask myself, did Tanaka really see the Southern Cross in his window at dawn? And, if I ask you the question, can you see the Southern Cross in Singapore?

Step 2: What things and methods?
Step 2: What things and methods?

Things and thingness

– What types of information and sources can you identify in order to rethink ways of framing your entry into locating nusantara? (excavated objects, horoscope, ghosts, newspapers, charts, letters, theories and ideas, songs and folklore, memes, music, concepts, maps, etc.)

– What is the significance of these things to you, your site, communities?

– How are they networked to other things?

Beyond nation

– How can we avoid the use of nation-state geography as cartography (nation mapping as a form of colonial articulation)?

– What are new formations that can be developed from connections between thingness?

Cooperation, not consensus
– There is no need for a consensus on how thingness is experienced or narrated by different persons and communities; allow experiences and expressions to float across beings, through different languages, and manifestation.

– The gathering of all differences becomes central to care-work: offering space to all expressions; taking time to meet and find meaning in all thingness

– Translating the different languages, or not; as a way of populating the archives with non-English words, which should be uttered and learned in order to understand its significance and use here.

Keywords: cooperation, care, translation

Q2: How to Relate a Place in the Horoscope?

– My second question is about how we can apply the horoscope system in subjects among different localities. As we always focus on the timing sensitivity when we cast a chart for the first time, the importance of the space factor is easily neglected in its framing of time-space integrity by some people. I make examples of Singapore’s Country Chart and the relocation chart for myself – although there is a debate when to decide a country’s “birth time”. It’s a question too complicated to discuss, now. Let’s check out how to make a relocation chart that I uploaded on youtube.

There are a few methods in (Classical) Astrology to explain the relationship between the place (space) and horoscope (celestial bodies, signs, or cardinal points). To apply a certain method of drawing an astrological chart or map, one needs to clarify her/his question for the place. For example, the country chart is considered to be the Mundane Astrology(世俗占星學). Just like any natal chart for any given (birth) time and location, the independent day of that country is used to produce the country map. Here is an example for a country named Singapore (A Capricorn Ascendant Leo). As we know this method treats the country as the individual existence, the 1-12 houses here are hence interpreted to the respective realms of this given “client”.

Among the three perspectives of reading a chart – the planet, the house, the aspect, the cardinal directions have already been embedded in the houses of the given client, since Ascendant (the 1st house) means ascending on the eastern horizon and Descendant (7th house) means descending western horizon. Likewise, MC (Medium Coeli or Zenith) is the cusp of the 10th house representing your highest aspiration, IC (Nadir) is the opposite cusp of the 4th house which always pointed to the opposite position of your MC on the earth.

One’s location is an inseparable element of their astrological charts; thus its importance can never be over emphasized in astrology. However, during the process of interpretation, the relation of the location and the client is easily underestimated by the practitioner of astrology, because the coordinate is fixed wherever you were born. That is why we need to look at the Relocation Chart, as well as the Local Space Astrology (the Astro*Carto*Graphy Map, or the Astrogeography.) Here is another example of how the Relocation Chart (right hand pic) differs from the Natal Chart (left hang pic) of a given client.

As you can see the Chart is relocated from Taiwan to Singapore, which the Ascendant Saturn moves to the cusp of the 2nd house, and the Neptune Descendant replaces the (Lunar) Node Descendant. Unlike the phenomenon of Quantum entanglement explained by quantum theory, our physical existences can never be in two different places at the same time. But how about the minds and the psychic energies of our beings? Or lets ask, can we find the most appropriate location for our wellbeing and future life? Maybe the technique of AstroCartoGraphy was invented by such callings and has emerged from the western countries in the 1980s.

As you can see the Chart is relocated from Taiwan to Singapore, which the Ascendant Saturn moves to the cusp of the 2nd house, and the Neptune Descendant replaces the (Lunar) Node Descendant. Unlike the phenomenon of Quantum entanglement explained by quantum theory, our physical existences can never be in two different places at the same time. But how about the minds and the psychic energies of our beings? Or lets ask, can we find the most appropriate location for our wellbeing and future life? Maybe the technique of AstroCartoGraphy was invented by such callings and has emerged from the western countries in the 1980s.

Step 3: Sensing and Charting
Step 3: Sensing and Charting

a) Sensing
– to sense is to disarm self from fixed knowledges and transport experience through other-ly senses that might otherwise be unnoticed or undocumented (hear, smell, touch, taste, sixth)
– to sense is to follow the instinct of seeking and feeling, through utterance, visualisations, repetitions; instinct as an element of self to be developed and trusted, grounded in a wider land, sea, air connection
– to sense is to be aware of the rhythms and patterns around us and how they impact our bodily, spiritual beings

b) Charting
– to chart is to plot and express sensing through documentation, led by one’s choice of medium
– to chart involves an act of translation, which firstly begins with translating one’s instinctual expressions into perceptible data (text, visual, movements), and secondly, to translate for communication with others
– to chart is a continuous and collaborative effort that requires the care of a community/communities

Keywords: instinct, care, translation

Q3: How to see horoscope sign(s) as the spatial metaphor(s)?

– Perhaps the key lies here is the common technique of how we see the relation between people and their localities in one horoscope system, and how do we consider ourselves from different parts of the world as a whole entity? The point here is to think about different parts as a whole. My question traced back to the authority of both western astrology and geography, Ptolomey, the founder of the Geocentric Model. I am not saying Geocentric is the one and only method – I mentioned him just because his model is one of the earliest to think of different geographic realms as one entity. (In fact, he had described Malay Peninsula in his Geography in the very early century.)

Before we move to the last question, let’s see how to make an Astro Map.

One way to relate the “place” to Horoscope is to look at the latter as the spatial metaphor, like, to see the 12 sectors, or 12 houses as different parts of an overall body or map we called Zodiac. It is the 12-house system of the horoscope based on the trajectory of the Sun along the ring of celestial equator, with the 4 primary angles (Spring equinox, Summer solstice, Autumnal equinox, Winter solstice) corresponding to the cusps of Aries, Cancer, Libra, & Capricorn. It is virtual since the referencing constellations are projected from respectively positions of varied light years away on the Zodiac. That explains the difference between Indian and Greek astrology after their fist separation centuries ago.

If you have ever heard about the motto “As Above, So Below”, you might know it’s associated with the Hermeticism (with the root of “Hermes” meaning Mercury) or the esoteric Western tradition which includes the astrology. The phrase is taken to indicate that earthly matters reflect the operation of the astral plane, or some will say the principle of Jungian Synchronicity. In astrology, the 12 houses also can represent different body parts (microcosmos) from the head to the feet, in which the symbolic spatial system is resonated with the horoscope (macrocosmos).

Back to our topic, I am thinking of Claudius Ptolemy, the first authority of Astrology, author of Geography, and founder of the geocentric model. He was also the first geographer to document “the Malay Archipelago” (Golden Chersonese) in the world. Or maybe it’s the same principle for Ptolemy to consider the different parts on earth as a whole, that we consider different planets and constellations are united under the framework of horoscopic astrology? Actually, even we can assign the Nusantara with horoscope sign(s), the sign(s) won’t stay the same from time to time.

 

Among the three perspectives of reading a chart – the planet, the house, the aspect, the cardinal directions have already been embedded in the houses of the given client, since Ascendant (the 1st house) means ascending on the eastern horizon and Descendant (7th house) means descending western horizon. Likewise, MC (Medium Coeli or Zenith) is the cusp of the 10th house representing your highest aspiration, IC (Nadir) is the opposite cusp of the 4th house which always pointed to the opposite position of your MC on the earth. (fig 2).

Fig 2: the cardinal directions of ASC, DSC, MC & IC on earth.

One’s location is an inseparable element of their astrological charts; thus its importance can never be over emphasized in astrology. However, during the process of interpretation, the relation of the location and the client is easily underestimated by the practitioner of astrology, because the coordinate is fixed wherever you were born. That is why we need to look at the Relocation Chart, as well as the Local Space Astrology (the Astro*Carto*Graphy Map, or the Astrogeography.) Here is another example of how the Relocation Chart (right hand pic) differs from the Natal Chart (left hang pic) of a given client.

As you can see the Chart is relocated from Taiwan to Singapore, which the Ascendant Saturn moves to the cusp of the 2nd house, and the Neptune Descendant replaces the (Lunar) Node Descendant. Unlike the phenomenon of Quantum entanglement explained by quantum theory, our physical existences can never be in two different places at the same time. But how about the minds and the psychic energies of our beings? Or lets ask, can we find the most appropriate location for our wellbeing and future life? Maybe the technique of AstroCartoGraphy was invented by such callings and has emerged from the western countries in the 1980s.

Step 4: Storytelling
Step 4: Storytelling

Tell the story through action, prose, poetry, movement, shouting, tantrums, drawings, illustrations, montages, diorama, sculpture, tarot, prayer, tears, photographs, algorithms, scripts, theatre, exhibitions, newsletters, skating, dance, blogs, tweets, books, touch, memes, manifesto, song, meditation, breathing, cats, through looking into someone’s eyes, moments, returning artefacts, decolonialism, stepping into the sea again, making pulut, chewing betel nut, speaking eepppp, finding your stars, journaling, reclaiming your power, walking the shores of seas until your feet is wrinkled so the land can remember its relationship to the sea again.

Q4: Why does It matter to Make an Astro Map of Nusantara?

I would like to quote Sidd’s words in my channel for you,

My general interest into chart interpretation is to go past the spatial rigidity of a place, person, historic event. Most of the time that’s our natal chart. (particularly only the Sun, Moon and Rising signs are the deterministic frames where we think astrology to be.) 

 

Actually I feel the same, as long as the factor of LOCALITY is concerned. I remembered one suspicion often aroused when people heard of the name of Nusantara Archive project. “How come this Taiwanese guy initiated a project in the name of Nusantara? Whom does this project aim at and what does it aim for?”

People ask so because when they say Nusantara, they always refer to Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, or sometimes the Philippines and Thailand. Taiwan is barely mentioned. In making astro map for myself, whether we want to reclaim our origins like Pak Chong, the founder of Gerak Budaya in Malaysia, claimed himself Orang Nusantara, or we want to escape from the deterministic frames of the fixed coordinate, we can always relocate ourselves on this Map of Nusantara.

In the following cases I will show you how the astro map looks like, but we don’t have time to explain. By rethinking Nusantara as a set of fictional narratives of our collective, fragmented memories, we can always find new aspects of ourselves on this map, learn something from it’s past, and even deploy for the future that we want to share with one another!

(There are also some notes relating to the astro map, and I’ll leave it here for you to read.)

  • The energy centres of an Astro Map do not alter the basic birth chart but rather enhance and stimulate it. These places can help you to better understand certain themes in your birth chart. 
  • Should you come into contact with these power zones, parts of your personality can be more intensively activated. 
  • A stay at such localities is not necessarily required to activate these energies. People as well as spiritual and cultural influences which emanate from these geographical regions form an energetic link. (astro.com)
  • The task of the astrologer is to draw out these correspondences, to tie the macrocosm to the microcosm, our world, to make the connection from the abstract chart to the human experience. It is the task of translation: the planets are represented by mythic figures, and the twelve signs of the zodiac are cast by archetypal symbols. (Christian Campe, Astrologer)

(astro map on 5 September at 13:30pm)

Now You can see both astro maps here showing the strong influence of Neptune() near Singapore and Malacca Strait, while this planet means the god of freshwater and sea, it also tells the idealistic, the borderless, the chaos, the dreamlike, or a kind of hallucination.

(astro map of my natal chart ^_^)

13/14

This is an exercise in creating connections between existing tags across fragments in order to multiply the different ways to speak about the nusantara. The task was to find meaning or affinities between tags across the various fragments, to build webs of entry points that could offer variegated pathways to encounter not just the different works, but in understanding the overlapping vernacular that make up our narrative of the nusantara. Facilitated through the form of a mind-map, it became a free-verse exercise in identifying and joining words and phrases that resonated to us, almost like an improvisational exercise that accepted all the scripts it was given. Each connection amplified the meaning and layers of each word and breathed forth wider connections to other fragments, allowing each of the works to nestle and weave into the other. The result is a jungle of pathways that can offer different experiences into “Pulau Something”, each leading back to its core: connections.

(See also archipelago)

14/14

Glossary of the Nusantara is a discursive exercise to find resonances, overlaps, and contestations over the concept of ‘Nusantara’. Borrowing from generative word games, participants list Nusantara-related concepts A to Z on a Google Sheet, following which, a discussion would be held between all workshop participants.

(See also nusantara, dissonance)

A Visual Mapping
A Visual Mapping

Screenshot of Glossary of Nusantara

Humidity Scale
Transpiration
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